


No Regrets

by purgatoan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Hurt Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 13:03:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13248813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purgatoan/pseuds/purgatoan
Summary: Dean gets shot on the hunt and Reader recognizes what’s going on with him. But will they make it to the hospital or will the reader have to act on their own?





	No Regrets

**Author's Note:**

> Reposting from Tumblr, because I realized I didn't post it. (An oldie, don't judge!)

“Y/N, look out!” Sam shouted and you turned attention to your left, freezing in spot once you saw the werewolf aiming at you with the gun you had dropped earlier.

Before you had a chance to dodge the bullet, Dean jumped in front of you, a scream of pain escaping his mouth as he got hit.

Sam immediately shot the werewolf in the heart, then he fired another and another one. The creature fell to the floor seconds after Dean did, and you stumbled forward, trying to assess the damage that Dean suffered from.

The entry wound was located on the left side of his stomach, right in between his two lowest ribs, and you prayed it missed all the important arteries and organs. His grey T-shirt was getting more and more red with every passing minute and you applied pressure to the wound, apologising for causing Dean pain when your action made him hiss.

“Why the hell did you do this, you idiot?” You yelled at Dean, your frustration getting the best of you.

“Sammy can’t lose you,” Dean’s breathing was a bit ragged, probably from the pain, “And you would be dead if I didn’t do that.”

Before you had a chance to respond, Sam was by your right side, “We need to get to the motel. I’m going to get the Impala, stay with him,” he ordered and you nodded, your gaze fixed on Dean.

“You’re stupid. But I’d rather take you stupid than dead, so don’t you dare think about leaving your brother and best friend,” you growled, and Dean smiled, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

“Sure. I’m gonna be just fine, I’m always fine,” he responded, trying to get up from the ground, but you moved to sit on his legs, effectively pinning him to the ground.

“You’re not getting up until Sam gets here. We can’t risk the bullet moving on its own accord,” you said with confidence and he sighed, letting you win that argument.

Under your hands, you felt the blood flow weaken, so you put your hands away from the wound and wiped the blood on your jeans. You thought that maybe Dean’s body was so used to trauma that it didn’t react all that violent to new injuries, but when you grabbed his hand and felt his pulse, something didn’t add up.

It’s been too low for a man like him, considering all the adrenaline and the shock he must’ve been coming through in that moment.

“What’s up?” Dean asked, and your hands came up to rest on the side of his neck. His veins were extended wide and that could only mean one thing. Damn, you never thought you’d get to witness something like this after dropping out of med school. Even in the hospital it was a rare occurrence.

“I might be wrong, but I need you to be honest with me. Do you feel pressure on your chest?” You pressed your ear to Dean’s chest, trying to pick up as much heart sounds as you could without a stethoscope. They were all a bit muffled, like they were moving through lots of fluid, especially on the left side.

“Yeah, a bit. Like someone laid there a few bricks. Why?” You could hear panic in his voice.

“I never told you that, but I dropped out of med school, a few months prior to graduation, and started hunting,” you didn’t miss the look of shock on Dean’s face as you let out those few words, “Now I know that something’s wrong with your chest and we need to go to the hospital. Or I’d have to fix it.”

“Forget the hospital. Do it, whatever it is. I can take it,” Dean assured you, but you shook your head no.

“First the hospital. We have to wait for Sam,” you admitted, letting out a sigh of relief as you saw Sam enter the warehouse you were in, the rumble of Impala’s engine hearable in the distance.

“You good?” He asked as he ran to the both of you and you scrambled up from the ground, assisting Sam as he picked Dean up, bridal style.

“Yeah, but Dean’s starting to have a cardiac tamponade. We need to get to the hospital, we can’t do this alone. You need to drive fast or I’ll have to do something to help him,” from the look on Sam’s face it was clear he didn’t understand what you said so you repeated, “Blood is filling the space around his heart and it puts unnecessary pressure on his heart. And that’s not good. If we don’t get to the hospital on time, you’ll have to pull over and let me relieve the pressure from his heart.”

“I have a feeling it won’t be as nice as relieving another type of pressure,” Dean snarked, and you rolled your eyes.

“Shut up,” you chuckled, and Sam laughed as well.

You opened the door to the Impala and Sam laid Dean on the backseat, telling you to get in there as well. As he sat behind the wheel, he asked, “How do you know all of this?”

“I wanted to be a doctor, but hunting happened, and I had to drop out of Stanford. It’s a long story. How far away are we from the nearest hospital?” You had your hand wrapped around Dean’s wrist, so you could control the pulse. You’d have to act if it dropped really low. For now, you hoped you could get help as soon as possible.

“An hour if there’s traffic. A bit more than half an hour if I take shortcuts,” and with those words, Sam started the Impala, speeding off to the main route.

“That should be enough. If not, I know what to do,” you said, your voice laced with confidence.

“I trust you,” Dean let out and you shot him a soft smile, watching his chest rise and fall repeatedly.

“I know.”

It took you less than half an hour to get Dean to the hospital and you explained what might be going on with the older Winchester as the doctors wheeled him inside the building. They wanted to know how you were so educated about medicine, but you just brushed it off as watching too much TV shows about hospitals. After they took Dean for the surgery, there was nothing you could do but wait.

You were sitting in the waiting room with Sam for what seemed like eternity. Waiting for anything was always a terrible thing to do, but it was even worse if it regarded Dean. You kept squirming in the uncomfortable seat, crossing your legs and uncrossing them, leaning back, then sitting straight. You thought you were going to go insane.

“You were studying at Stanford?” Sam broke the silence eventually, and you nodded.

“Yeah. I almost got the degree, but I dropped out in the last semester,” you admitted, leaning back in the uncomfortable chair.

“Why?” He asked, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“And why did you stop going to Stanford? Family business,” you sighed, taking Sam’s hand in yours, “I didn’t have a choice, just like you. But if I could go back, I wouldn’t change anything.”

That seemed to surprise him, “What do you mean? Wouldn’t it be better to be a doctor, not a hunter?”

“No, my priorities have changed,” you couldn’t help but smile.

“Oh really? What’s your top priority now?” Sam wondered, reciprocating the smile.

“You,” you said simply, tipping forward and planting a soft kiss on Sam’s lips. After pulling away, you added, “And everyone and everything that’s connected to you. Dean, hunting, saving people. That’s what’s most important, not the dreams that I had when I was a kid and my life was normal.”

“Well, that makes sense. You’re saving people anyway,” he summed up, his gaze locked with yours.

“Exactly. And that’s all I ever wanted.”

Before you had a chance to say more, a doctor you’ve been talking with earlier appeared, dressed in scrubs and a surgical cap. He was smiling softly and walked to you and Sam, sitting in the chair opposite to you.

“How’s my brother?” Sam let out, his fingers entwining with yours.

“He’s out of surgery already. We were able to locate the bullet, take it out, and repair all the damage. And you were both right,” he said, turning his attention toward you, “he had cardiac tamponade, and if you didn’t bring him here as fast as you did, it could have ended pretty bad.”

Relief washed over you in waves and, before you had a chance to think, you had the doctor wrapped in a tight hug. He chuckled against your skin and, as you uttered simple, “Thank you,” he immediately said, “No problem. But you were the one who saved him in the first place.”

After you pulled away, Sam shook the doctor’s hand and smiled as well, “Thank you for saving my brother. Can we see him?”

“Not yet, but when it’ll be possible I’ll send someone to get you,” the doctor promised, then walked away as you both slumped back onto your respectable seats.

“See? I’m still saving people,” you said, flashing Sam a grin.

“I know. That’s one of the many reasons I love you,” he responded, his smile wide and beautiful.

You knew you didn’t regret anything, not even a bit, and moments like those only assured you that you made a right choice. Nothing would be worth not getting to know the Winchesters, they were your whole life now. A life that you loved with all your heart. Being a doctor would never make up for what you had with the Winchesters, and that’s why you would never be sad because of where you ended up.


End file.
